Lights! Camera! Faction!
by ink-and-song
Summary: Sanctum is holding its first ever competitive Film Festival and the unofficial Daeva of Bad Romance Novels has decided to make a run for the crown. With a pen name like "Hot4uCutie" and smexy Empyrean content to back it up, will she be able to make the cut? Though, with the Seraphim Lords themselves judging the contest, the bigger question is: will Elysea make it out alive?
1. Something Horrid This Way Comes

_The Windz Callign  
by Hot4uCutie  
AN: So sory it tuk so long 2 upd8 agin. I hav been kiling sedcutrssisies in the kiola temple an it wuz realy hard. i promis 2 upd8 soonr nex tiem. 3  
_

 _3_

 _Nexekan wuz jealos. He wached Vazeil an Israffel b in luv an wantd somone 2 luv 2. He sighd.  
"I want smbody to lov," he cryed mornfully. Nobdy lisned so he drank sum omblik winee an hit the tabel wit hiz hand. (AN hes not being meen hes just drunk ok?) The ladie at the tavern made a sad face. She didnt liek him hiting her tabel.  
Ystutiel walkt ovr an gav him anothur bieer. "R U OK nezzie?" she asked.  
Nezkanean sighed. "No I jus want sombody 2 luv."  
Yusteil felt bad 4 him but she wuz in luv wit Trinel so she sayd she wuz takin. "mabye Areel wantz sumbody 2 luv."  
Nezzkean thot she wuz totaly rite so he went 2 lade ariel imediatley an asked 4 4givness. _

"Wait-, I'm confused."

Tophis paused, clutching her manuscript. Her audience of one, a spiritmaster known as Rid (she couldn't remember his full name), rubbed his head in confusion.

"I thought Triniel was a Shedim Lord. Why would she be friends with Lady Yustiel?"

Poor Rid. Her ignorant, love-blind friend (well, not really-he just lived in the studio across the hall) had been a daeva longer than she had, but he still didn't understand.

"Yustiel is the Lady of Life," she explained patiently. "Triniel is the Lady of Death-they're destined to be together. Opposites attract. It's like, totally proven. Just look at you and Ael. It's how true love works." She put on her best smile and pointed at him, trying in a desperate but vain effort to get him to see the connections.

His green eyes looked at the floor intensely as he puzzled over this. "Ael and I aren't in love though. She is awfully nice, and I really like having her around, but she's my best friend. We share crafting tips and do favors for each other and she asks for decorating opinions occasionally and tells me what I'm not allowed to do and sometimes it's kind of boring like the time she said I couldn't hold the Festival of Brax in Sanctum after what happened last year or eat anymore dimensional fragments or keep an Asmodian as a pet because they bite even though they look fluffy but she does a lot of nice things for me and never tells me to go away like most people do-,"

Sensing rambling, Tophis quickly held up a hand to silence him. The most helpful Rid was a Rid that wasn't talking.

"But like, for the story, Yustiel and Triniel are in love. And now Nezekan needs love. It's totally possible."

His brows were still pressed together in confusion, but he gave a small nod. She sighed, shaking her head. He really was hopeless.

When he made no further comment, she cleared her throat, deciding that was his signal for her to continue.

 _"U R 4givn," Arieel sad. Nezkean wuz totaly happie. "So duz that meen I hav sumbody 2 luv?"  
Areel shuk her hed sadly. "U must find sum1 2 luv on ur own. It iz not sumting that u can fors or giv. u must seek ur purfect one."  
Nezkean wuz hartbrokin an wen bak 2 th tavern. Wher he wuz aproched bi a pretty bar maide in a miniskurt an sexie high heels wit littel black bows. She had long wite hair but she wuznt a slut.  
"Wuld u liek anothr drink sir?" Nexekan looked at the sexxy bar maide. It wuz Kaiseniel!  
Nizekan had alweys thot kaisnelal wuz liek, supr hott, so he tolt her that he wantid sumbody 2 luv.  
_

"But Kaisinel's not a girl though," the spiritmaster said pointedly. "You made a mistake. Some of the texts say he is, yeah, but they're old and mistranslated. Besides, he's my patron and I've met him and I'm pretty sure he's a-"

Tophis made a face and tossed a lock of coral-red hair over her shoulder. She waved her spellbook in front of him. " _She's_ my patron too, remember? And I know that she's a girl. You can think what you want, but it's totally obvious."

"But he wears boots, not heels. Tall ones, blue of course. And I've never seen him in a miniskirt and _really_ never had him ask if I would like to do something. He just says "Go do this" and "Go kill that". Most people wouldn't think it but he looks really sad when he thinks nobody's watching. Lonely people tend to do that, I think. I do it sometimes when Ael isn't around. And I've seen Spatalos do it too, though he usually looks like he's imagining how he's going to tear the heads off every Krall in Verteron and pull their brains out their-"

"Rid! Do you want to hear the story or not?"

"Well to be honest-"

She opened her mouth and started reading before he could finish his reply.

 _Kaziel blushed an gav hm anothr drink wit the little umbrela. "nezikan..."  
sudenly Markutan ran in2 the tavrn.  
"NEZKEAN!" he roard. "GIV ME BAK MY WOMAN!"  
Kazinel screemed an trid 2 hide behind Nezekan. "NO! I DU NOT LUV U!" she cryed. "U R LORD OF HATE!"  
Makrutan wuz totally mad but even tho he wuz a jerk he wuz stil hot an had a super sexy hott bod with flexibl pecs an abs. He went 2 grab kaizensal but stopt wen he saw nezkan.  
"Nezekan," he saiyd. "i hav nevr seen beauty til this nite." (AN so liek kazinel wuz totaly the prettyest but nezikan wuz the absulote HOTTEST becuz he is super muscly an has realy hot arms). Marktuan ran 2 Nezkan an kissed his lipz pasionatly. (marktan an nezekan r both bi k? dont messg me that ur confuzd an dont no cuz i told u)  
Nezekin starred at marktuan's ripling abs an strong jaw as they kisst ovr and ovr. Markutan had whit hair 2 that wuz swept bak sexily an it almost lookt liek old man hair but it wasnt becuz it wuz hot. he ran hiz hands down nezikan's armor and-_

"That doesn't sound like something Marchutan would do though," Rid said, looking increasingly uncomfortable. "I mean, I'm not an Asmodian so I wouldn't know, but I never felt like he was the type, nasty and temperamental like that. I definitely don't think he would be getting all close and slobbery with Lord Nezekan, of all people, especially when Kahrun is-,"

"Rid, I think that like, Marchutan and Nezekan are totally boyfs and if they're not then they totally will be because they are like, super compatible with each other? I mean, it's okay to be into MarKai or JustLight and I get that. Like, I respect your ships, but right now this fic is about Nezutan. In my opinion, it's the only way to go. Plus, it's way hotter. All my readers agree."

"But-,"

"Just wait till this next scene. It's rated T but like, I'm thinking it might need to be made M because of this next one. Let me know if you think I should bump it up, 'kay?"

Without waiting for a reply, she motioned for him to remain silent as she resumed her story. Despite the fact that she was getting close to the best part, the spiritmaster looked completely unaffected, if not downright baffled by the turn of events. From the look of it, for all he knew, she may as well have been speaking ancient Atreian.

"So what did you think?" she asked finally, setting the last page down. He sat there, blinking occasionally, his face completely blank.

"Actually, I do have one question. Just one question. A question." He paused. Tophis held her breath. "Actually, that's a lie. I have seven questions, but six of them said I should only ask the one. If Marktuan wanted to go to dinner, why didn't he just skip all the weird grabby stuff in the middle and ask? And-sorry, two questions- what did the preserved meats have to do with anything?"

It wasn't the emotion and instinct-driven response she had wanted, but since he wasn't flaming her (verbally or literally), she considered his reaction to be "okay, but not applicable".

"Rid, we seriously, I mean like seriously, need to work on you."

He blinked again. "What's wrong with me?"

The arrival of a Rid-bound aether-net message cut off her reply.

"Hi!" he greeted enthusiastically, quickly turning his attention elsewhere. He tilted his head as the speaker on the other end of the magic channel responded, giving whatever message they had meant to deliver. She watched his eyes slowly widen in alarm. It was almost comical.

"I'm so sorry! Got distracted again and I completely forgot about the competition! Forgot, forgot, I'm a complete dolt but then when have I ever remembered? I promise I'll be there in a moment-I think I've got a teleport scroll on me, if not I can run to Inggy and pick one up there. Five minutes? Okay maybe six and a half, give or take another half in case my port flu acts up again and I end up stuck upside-down on the bottom of Sanctum. I _am_ in Oriel though, so actually now that I think about it I can't promise that I won't end up in a pocket dimension again either. Spiritmaster, twisting the fabric of space and reality and all that, hazard of the job…no of course I didn't _eat them_ , I do remember last time... Plus Dairy Queen said not to do it unless he-alright, don't worry, on the way, on the way, just a sec..."

Toph waited politely for him to finish. He closed the aether message with a flick of a finger, scattering the magic channel.

"Apologies, sorry, I've got to go, Ael's entered into this film competition and I completely forgot that I'm helping her with setup and choreography and costuming and all that, she's doing the writing and directing and honestly she's brilliant as the tower itself if it were still alive. Anyway, the winner gets this title and you know how she is with those, gotta catch 'em all and such, so I'm off to help her secure the prize. "Daeva of Filmmaking", she's had her eye on it for months now and I think it'll really suit her, don't you agree? The Seraphim Lords themselves are judging the event, you know. It's even said that Lord Vaizel's going to be showing up from wherever he runs off to all the time." He waved as the return spell charged up around his feet. "I'll have to catch up with you later, but it was nice chatting. Good luck with your story!"

She waved back. By the time her hand was up, he was already gone. His sudden exit was very typical; she'd learned long ago to not take the comings-and-goings personally.

She picked up her manuscript from the now-empty table. Rid hadn't quite turned out to be the beta she was hoping for, but her fans were going to love her latest update, even if there were a few errors. Gently, she smoothed down the cover and held her work up with a proud smile.

There was no way anybody would be able to resist the romantic love spell of her new chapter. In fact, she wouldn't be surprised if it proved to be more popular than its prequel.

...It _would_ make for a dramatic, super-romantic motion picture. Actually, most of her work was practically _made_ for aethervision.

Film competition, huh? Her soft pink lips curled into a smile as she sank into her favorite fess armchair. The more she considered the idea, the more she liked it. And Lady Tophis, Daeva of Filmmaking had an extremely hot ring to it.

The Sanctum Film Contest was about to have one more entrant.

Meanwhile, not so far away, in a floating city bathed in light, a certain Daeva of Prophecy got a terrible chill up his spine.

"Arion, are you alright?"

The ground disappeared beneath him and Arion snapped his wings out just in time to avoid a nasty fall down the stairs. It was the first time he had to bring his feathers out in centuries, and it took him a minute to realize that he had narrowly missed bashing his face in on the stone road.

"Yes, thank you, Libitina," he said, brushing off his robes. His wings vanished in a gleam of light. "I just had a horrible feeling and somehow lost my step."

She smiled warmly. "A warning of troubles ahead, perhaps? With you around, I am certain that no harm will come to Elysea."

"Libitina, you flatter me. It is Aion who speaks, not I." The prophet straightened. "Though I would remain vigilant if I were you. The future is yet unclear."

"Whatever it is, we will be ready. Faith and arms!"

He nodded distantly. "Faith and arms."

The deep sense of foreboding that had come over him had passed, leaving the aether peaceful once more. A small bird twittered amidst the pink blossoms of a nearby tree, adding to the illusion that all was well.

Yet despite his best reasoning, he couldn't shake the feeling that something was coming. And there was nothing any Elyos could do to prepare them for it.


	2. In which Toph gets a Better Partner

"Ael," Rid squeaked. "Are you _absolutely sure_ this is necessary?"

"Yes," the songweaver said as she studied the movie setup with an expert eye. "We need to recreate the fight with Kromede as accurately as we can. That means setting up the background to be as close as we can get it to the original battle."

"Are we doing comedy? I'm pretty sure you weren't signed up for comedy, unless you count watching us get our feathers handed to us from a hundred or so artistic angles as drama." Rid strained under the weight of the boulder he was trying unsuccessfully to move. "And even accounting for that, I am pretty sure the correct terminology is "dramedy" with a heavy helping of slapstick and," he strained against the rock, "-a lot of pain. Self deprecating humor. Screaming. Some yelling. Poetic irony. Are you really _really_ absolutely sure this is necessary?"

"Yeah, absolutely sure," Ael repeated, scribbling notes into her memo pad. She jabbed her pen at an imposing rock formation. "Next could you get that big column up next to where the talking mirror is standing? Thanks."

"I'll try my best. I am not strong. Behold, my glorious noodle arms." He waved his limp limbs around to demonstrate. The boulder he had been holding up fell over with a crash.

Ael sighed. "You have an earth spirit, Rid."

"Todd!" Rid exclaimed, his face suddenly guilt-stricken. "How could I have forgotten him like that? He must have felt so lonely, so betrayed…"

He summoned Todd and threw himself onto the spirit, bluthering apologies. Todd, who looked like he had just woken up from a nap, fell back asleep once he observed that nothing worth being awake for was happening nearby.

Ael folded her arms and reminded the distracted spiritmaster of what the pet had been summoned to do in the first place.

"Oh, right-Todd, can you move that rock column about twelve meters to the left? Yes, exactly like that, right next to the shiny mirror with the sunny disposition-"

"You make an ugly Kromede," the mirror sneered.

"I know," Rid muttered miserably.

"Rid?" Ael broke in, "Now can you try and lure a couple of the inferno spirits this way? I need to see what kind of lighting they create in a group. They might throw off the cameras if we don't check now."

Rid sighed and started jogging towards the nearest pod of fiery spirits. With her eye for quality and scary attention to detail, Ael's film was going to be a masterpiece, no doubt about it. Still, he didn't fancy being chased again. Maybe he could bribe the spirits with koa logs. Fire spirits loved koa logs.

"Express delivery, akakakak!"

Before he had a chance to bribe anything, an express courier tumbled out of the air, a shimmering portal fading away behind it. The shugo picked itself up off the ground and dusted off its knees.

"Never get used to that, nyerk." The courier fumbled in its pack and pulled out a scroll, squinting to read the handwriting on the outside. "You are Irideon with an i, correct? Hard to tell with all the loops, akakakakak."

Rid nodded vigorously, bounding forward. "Yes, yes, that's me. I don't think it ever starts with any other letter, but there's a first time for everything."

The express courier handed him the letter. "If daeva could sign here, nyerk."

Rid scribbled his name on the line, then tore into the letter.

 _Deer Ridd:_

 _Cud u plz com 2 my st_ _u_ _deo? It_ _s_ _urjint. I n_ _e_ _d help!_

 _~ Tophis xoxoxo_

Ael was suddenly at his shoulder, peering over. "Whatcha got?"

Rid showed her the letter. "It's from Tophis. She lives in the studio across the hall. Sorcerer, wears frilly skirts and changes her hair color every time we see her? It's been a pinkish orange lately. She writes a lot of really confusing books."

Ael nodded. "I think we've met. Everything in her studio is pink or polka dotted, right?" She waved her hand. "Go ahead. I have everything handled here. One of my legion mates just got off, so I'll still have help. You'd better go see her and make sure there isn't anything wrong."

-x—

When Rid showed up, he was wearing...something horrific.

"Don't you have to have, like, boobs to wear that?" Toph pointed at his outfit, a form-fitting imitation of Kromede's famously revealing asmodian armor.

"Yes…" Rid replied rather miserably.

"Like, if you wanted to wear drag, you know I could have totally helped you out, right? You'd look much better with a sweetheart neckline or a seductive slipped shoulder. Though," she rubbed her chin, eyeing the fashion monstrosity in front of her. "I definitely think you should go for the classic "good girl" style. That sexy vamp look totally doesn't suit you at all."

"Thanks for the offer," Rid replied. "But Ael just needed to see if the colors worked well with the lighting. The first costume she ordered looked purple in the caves and it was all wrong, so we tried to see if this one was better but when we held it up it was just flat, so she decided that it was best if she saw it on a person and she couldn't see it unless it was on someone else. It wouldn't have done any good for Bob to wear it since he's all lumpy, and I couldn't coax Moxie to put it on. Something about spirits not wearing clothes."

It sounded like the competition really had all her bases covered. Toph was going to have to put her all into this if she wanted to win.

Rid cleared his throat. "So, what was the emergency? You don't look like you're in danger. I was kind of worried that you'd been eaten by a guestbloom or sucked into a portal or-"

"So," Toph interrupted quickly, "I like, decided to enter that film contest that you were talking about! Have you heard of my new saga, _12 Way Luv_?"

To her delight, Rid nodded. "Ael's read _Free Passhun_ cover to cover twice. She says it's pure, inimitable gold. Her friends can hardly believe it's real. They had a big argument about it."

Toph beamed. She always loved hearing good things from her readers. But as much as she liked feedback from her fans, there was another matter of business to attend to. "So, like, I was thinking it would make a really good screenplay. And I was wondering if you could-,"

"Sorry," Rid said, raising his hands immediately and stepping back. "I can't. Conflict of interest, I'm afraid- it's bad enough that I'm helping Ael when I might be entering myself. I can't do it in good conscience; besides, I would only be dead weight on your project. You're very kind, and generous, cheery, popular, and have good taste in curtains and upholstery- very nice atmosphere you have going in here, by the way, the pastel is very suiting. I'm sure you have plenty of friends who would be willing to help you out. Why not ask one of them?"

"I did," Toph sighed. "They're all busy with orders and stuff. Defending Elysea, fighting the Balaur, that kind of thing."

"What about Elisa?"

Toph made a face at the thought. "Blu and I don't really get along anymore, y'know? She like, went behind my back and was stealing my stories. I don't really want to get into that mess again. It was messing up my life irl. Like, I'll be friends with her, but I don't want her working with my writing anymore."

Her friend chewed his lip. "Well, most of my friends-they're not really my friends, they're Ael's friends and I just know them- they're busy doing important stuff and yelling at each other. But I think I might know someone. He was sort of a mentor of mine through the Orichalchum Key before the whole thing with the war and the stigma phobia-,"

Toph's heart fluttered with hope.

"-but he's kind of broken, so you might have to repeat things a few times and remind him to focus sometimes. He's really nice, he-"

"That's great! He sounds perfect, I like, can't wait! Just tell him to meet me here in my studio, okay? Thanks so much for the help, FloofySpiritCutie!"

"Who?"

"Bye, Rid!"

Knowing her neighbor could stick around chatting for awhile, Toph shoved a manuscript of _The Wite Lotis_ into his hands, gave him a peck on the cheek, and herded the confused spiritmaster toward the relationship crystal. They could hang out and socialize some other time. After all, she had a meeting to prepare for.

-x—

"So like, I'm entered into this film contest and I need a super cool beta. Have you ever heard of the saga, _12 Way Luv_?"

"Yes."

Toph beamed, leaning forward onto the edge of her table as her prospective beta blinked owlishly. "No. Way. So, what do you think of it? Have you read it?"

"Yes," the ginger ranger seated across her repeated, fiddling with his fork. "I've read it. I think it's okay. I don't agree with," he paused, slowly lifting his cup and taking a long, slow sip of tea before slowly setting it down again. "I don't agree with LifeLight. Between them, LightLife is the only one that sense to me."

"Oh…" Toph shrugged. "I think it's the best way. Though I ship LifeDeath more. I just think that Ariel wouldn't want to lead Elysea and a relationship, you know?

The ranger nodded again. "I understand. I am still not sure I would agree." He stared off into the distance as though there was not a pastel pink polka-dotted wallpaper in the way. "I don't really follow the Seraphims anymore. I sold all my armor."

This statement didn't entirely make sense to Tophis, but she figured that since he had been Rid's mentor at one point, he was bound to be a little weird anyway.

"So like, are you interested?"

The daeva set his cup down, thinking. Toph held her breath as she waited for a response.

"This is a nice table," he answered finally.

Now it was Toph's turn to blink. "Um, thanks? It's a betua table I constructed in this like, class in Sanctum."

"Though," the ranger continued, "It could use more candles."

"I-I have a whole bunch of candles in storage," Toph said, in a voice that was both confused and slightly nervous. "Like, those are romantic, I guess." Clearing her throat and gathering her wits about her, she decided to change the subject. "So what's your name? I'm Tophis, by the way. I totally didn't get yours, like, I am so sorry."

"It's okay," the ranger said, pushing his fork around his teacup. The screeching noise it made as it scraped across the ceramic hung in the air like a cloud of awkwardness between them. The other daeva seemed oblivious to its presence.

"So...what's your name, hon?" Tophis asked again, squirming. She wasn't used to feeling awkward. This was her turf, talking to people was her specialty. This ranger was even harder to talk to than Genmaicha, and all she did was play that shugo game the whole time. The sorcerer chewed her lip.

"Aerydin," the ranger answered at last. Toph waited for him to offer up more information about himself, but he did not.

"Why don't I read a passage from my latest story to you, Aer? I would totally love it if I could incorporate some of it into my script, you know? It's LifeDeath, so like, it will totally be a dramatic sequel to _Buturflys Bownd_ and _A Litely Tuch._ "

Aerydin didn't respond, so she took that as a yes and pulled her manuscript of _Kis ov Deth_ from the table side cabinet.

"I'm gonna start with the author's note, okay? It makes it easier to understand, plus this is, like, a work in progress so it isn't that long yet."

She cleared her throat again and began,

 _Kis ov Deth_

 _By Hot4uCutie_

 _AN: So liek tis storee iz abut Tiniel an her HAWT leder soot an stuff. Alzo i jus got my constrictin lisens frum santrim! It wuznt ezzy but i craftid nekkid wit ful divine powr an totaly passt! I gat lik supper exited an had to celebrat with an updatte 4 u guz! Get reddy 4 sum sexxy sinning! ;) xoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxoxo_

 _Ladee Trinel wuz flyign in te Abiss. Hur wignz wur blak as nite in asmodie an had sharp tips that wur relly gud 4 killign bad balur an sum relly bad Elyos like Leffarests. Her har wuz blak as nite also an was curld like, totelly pretty an kin ov sexie wich went gud wit her tall sexxy kinda dominetrixy blak boots an tite lether suit._

 _She wuz geting revenj bcuz sum meen dragin cam an killd hur partnur in huntin balor. Sudinly hur gurlfrend Yustel apeerd! She wor sexxy lether glovs, fishnet stokigns, a short lethur minishirt an a corset. It looks liek kromedes armor but also liek sexy an liek not asmodoin. It wuz lik hur dress in Leder an Lief but mor lacy._

" _Trinel, u r so dark an cold toard ur enemis! I am in luv wit u!"_

" _Butt," Rtiniel cryd. "We r Elyos an Asmodain. We kinnot b in Luv her. And I hav a secrit."_

 _Then Trinell turnd in2 a super hott! VAMPIR! (AN i no sum vampers r uglie but Trinel iz totaly wowza liek hot balar chik but wit mor darker colurs an sexier skurt an this sort uv boob windo that makes Yustieel blushh becuz th ats supur cyute.)_

" _I hav been cursd!" She sad sadlee. "i mist b a vampir 4ever! We cannot b in luv tis way"_

" _I am ledy uv Lyfe," Yusteil sad huskelee. "I kin brake te curs. We mist mak out an ten te curs will b brokin."_

 _An then she grabed Trinel sexxilee an mad out wit her an Trinel kist bak._

Toph stopped reading and looked at Aerydin. "So, what do you think?"

The ranger stared into his tea. "I think the vampire plot is good. But I think that Triniel should have a competing love interest. To make it more," he paused to take a sip of tea. "To make it more conflicted."

Toph tapped her quill on her chin thoughtfully; unfortunately, her eyes were already alight with ideas that the world could have done without.

"So like, she and Azphel could have sort of crushes on each other, and Azphel thinks that the vampire curse is like, totally attractive, and Yustiel also thinks that like, Azphel's kinda hot but she's mad because she doesn't want him to be in love with Triniel and oh my Aion, you're amazing Aere-...what's your name again?"

"Aerydin," the ranger corrected expressionlessly. "But it's clear that Azphel and Zikel are fighting over Fregion and Meslamtaeda's love. Meslamtaeda secretly loves Tiamat. Fregion loves Ereshkigal and is having a trist with Lady Ariel. Ariel thinks Fregion is serious and wants to move forward, but Bakarma wants to keep them apart."

It was an interesting dynamic, and one Toph would have to think more on later. "But like, that's for my next story. Ariel and Azphel's stories aren't until after _Sheilded Luv_ and _Buturflys Bownd_ _._ They're going to be like, the last books in the series. _"_

Aerydin made a face that looked akin to one someone might make if they had to fight one too many clod worms. "It is needed in the final script."

Already Tophis was one step ahead of him. With no extra fanfare, she pulled a log of parchment from her cube and dropped it on her table with a heavy thump. Her favorite quill was readied, poised to start creating her masterpiece.

"Aeroden," the sorceress said with a smile that had ""let's get dangerous" written all over it, "I think this is like, the start of a really nice partnership."

In accordance with his behavior so far, Aerydin didn't smile, or even look at her. He continued staring at the wall. After a few minutes of awkward silence, he took a sip of tea.

They had a lot to do.


	3. He normally sticks to improv

**WAN FAMIS ACTOR? LOOKIGN 4 TALINT AN PASSHUN. IF UR ANY OV THEES, MEET ME AT TEH VERTRON CITADAL 2DAY!**

 **HOT MEN WITH LUSSHUS HARE an ARMS**

 **SILVER HAR GUY**

 **HAWT GERL WITH LONG HAR AN PRETY WITE HAR MOSLY**

 **HAWT GERL WITH SHORT HAR AN PRETY PURPEL MOSLY**

 **TEMPAR WIT GRATE BEERD AN ABS**

 **RLY BUFF GUY AND HAWT**

 **HAWT GERL TALL WIT BEG BOOBS AN BLONED**

 **HAWT LADY BLONED ALSO BUT WIH SMALER BOOBS AN NICER**

 **RANGER HAWT ARMS AN MUSCLY**

 **SUPER HOTT GLAD WIT FIERSE BROWN HAR MANLY**

 **C NEXT PAJE 4 MOR ROLLS!**

The notice was tacked to the wall near the hoverstone in Eltnen Fortress. There were many pinned all over Elysea, and one had even attracted the attention of a miner in Theobomos, but it was this particular flyer that piqued the interest of a bored ranger in Eltnen, who had come to the region to have fun and take pot shots at passing Asmodians with the Elyos Defense Cannons.

"I think the role was made for me," the ranger said, with a devilish smirk, a glint in his green eyes, and a toss of his wavy brown hair. He flexed his muscles. "You'd have to look hard to find a ranger with hotter and more muscly arms than me. Just check out these bad boys." First he flexed up, then he flexed down, and then he struck a pose. "I think I'd be a natural in theatre."

The poor chanter next to him who had been somewhat guiltily interested in the flyer squeaked at the display. She clearly best fit "hawt gerl with short har an prety purpel mosly", though she herself was short, her hair was technically indigo, and her physical attractiveness was lukewarm at best due to an unfortunate resurrection that had formed her nose back onto her face at a forty-five degree angle.

With a wink, he swept her hand up in his own and planted a kiss on her knuckle. The chanter blushed as crimson as the raging Kraterr, but not because of his power of flattery. The truth was that she suffered from crippling social anxiety and was quite overwhelmed by the whole ordeal. To her credit, the ranger was laying it on quite thick.

"My lovely desert rose," the ranger flirted smoothly, planting a second kiss on her hand with expert swiftness. "It will be but a matter of time until someone comes along and sweeps you off your feet. With great sorrow, I must depart if I am to make the auditions. Until we meet again, fair lady."

On that memorable line, the ranger teleported away. A gleeful cackle that promised a future filled with things best left forgotten rang out in the high-ceilinged room for a good thirty seconds after he'd departed.

— A very little while (as in a few seconds) later—

"I don't really know exactly what we're looking for, here," Rid said, feeling lost. Tophis had rescued him from baiting hordes of spirits, for a time, and had made use of his block of newfound free time by enlisting his help in sorting the auditioners alongside Cleio, a bystander daeva who had been randomly approached by the producer-in-chief and agreed to help out in exchange for cash. Rid squinted at the paper in his hand. "What is 'smoth'?"

Partly due to lack of foresight and partly due to bad luck, Toph had chosen two daevas who were very likely the worst ones in Elysea for the job. Though he didn't know it, Irideon was quite near-sighted and didn't have a "hawtness" meter of any kind, and Cleio was a burly warrior well on her way to becoming a bounty hunter, who was only attracted to greatswords.

As such, they weren't doing a very good job of sorting through the prospectives. Cleio shrugged, glaring down at her checklist and then glaring up at a tall, bony templar with a bright pink mullet and a lethally sharp chin. She pointed the hopeful eyesore in the direction of one of the waiting groups and waved him through as "hot men wit lusshus hare an arms". He didn't have a rabbit, but whatever.

She couldn't wait until this was over so she could collect her kinah bag and get back to hunting Pakisgue. Images of riding the back of the monstrous potcrab and stabbing mercilessly at the weak point in its armor flashed pleasantly into her mind.

"Hey there."

Cleio looked up from her list again to see an olive-skinned ranger swaggering up to her table. He was shirtless, save for a green scarf which accented a set of toned abs and rock-hard shoulders. Jaw-length brown desert waves framed a pair of gleaming emerald eyes. To top off the look, a well-styled and somewhat out-of-place black moustache perched proudly on his upper lip.

"Name?" she drawled, looking him up and down as she tried to decide whether he better suited "HOT MEN WITH LUSSHUS HARE an ARMS" or "RLY BUFF GUY AND HAWT". Considering that none of the people she'd seen so far had brought rabbits, she was having a hard time differentiating between the two categories.

"Vaizus," the ranger said smugly, leaning on the table with his elbow while he pushed a hand through his hair. Cleio grunted, writing it on the list.

"Templar wit grate beerd an abs?" Cleio asked, struggling through the pronunciation while next to her Rid waved through a spindly ginger aethertech as "rlly hawt goth guy wit blak har".

"Nah," the ranger said in a drawn-out sort of way while he stretched his arms at an angle that emphasized his muscles. "Ranger hawt arms an muscly. I mean, look at me." He gestured shamelessly to his body. "Empyrean Lord of Freedom is practically my _name_."

Cleio looked him up and down for another minute, eyes narrowed critically.

"Fine," she said flatly, writing it down. "Next?"

As he passed, she could have almost sworn she'd heard malevolent chuckling, but if she'd spent any time thinking about it, the moment quickly passed. She had better things to do, anyway. Cleio sighed, closing her eyes to daydream instead about the thirty-story tall frillneck she'd heard about roaming the Poya Jungle, and all the shiny greatswords she could kill it with.

Meanwhile, at the auditioning stage, Tophis and Aerydin were busy sorting through the impressive turnout of hopeful performers. "We still don't have…" Aerydin took a long pause to consult his list. "Azphel, Kaisinel, Zikel, and Vaizel."

"Well," Toph said, watching the auditioning daeva before them intently. "This is Kaisinel right here, like, for sure."

After evaluating the sugary actress for a few lines, Aerydin shook his head. "No," he said. "I think Kaisinel needs to be more tsundere."

Toph tilted her head thoughtfully. "More tsundere?" she echoed. Aerydin nodded.

"More tsundere," he repeated. "She must get mad and act like she isn't in love. This actress is too... _un_ tsundere. It will throw..." he paused. "It will throw off the flow."

Toph considered the idea for a little bit, then agreed. "Thanks! That was like, a totally earnest performance," she said to the auditioning songweaver, once she had finished her lines. "And you're super pretty. If you get the part, I'll be in touch after auditions. 'Kay?"

The songweaver nodded and departed. When she had gone, Toph stole a glance at Aerydin's list. "I still think she should maybe be an understudy. Who's next?"

"Vaizus," the two rangers said in unison. Both film leaders turned their attention to the surprise speaker, who was now standing on the stage with a cocky grin and his hands firmly on his hips.

"Well like, he's definitely hot enough," Toph said after a good four seconds of slack jawed staring. Aerydin nodded.

"I'm here to play Lord Vaizel," Vaizus said confidently, the curled ends of his moustache quivering with each syllable."I've been told I have a certain flair for the part."

"W-well," Toph stammered, clutching her clipboard and still drooling. "The scarf is a total turn-on." Upon taking in his entire outfit from top to bottom, she creased her brows and waved a hand at his breeches. "I don't know about the green leggings and sandals though. Could you wear like, leather pants and ranger boots? Everything else looks, um, great. Really great."

Aerydin frowned. "What about the moustache?"

Before he could finish saying the sentence, "Vaizus" was upon him with a deep, disappointed scowl.

"What about the moustache?" he echoed, twirling one of the ends around a finger. "Personally, I feel my facial hair adds character and diversity. Wouldn't you say, Lady Tophis? Or, should I call you, "Hot For You Cutie?""

He threw on his most dashing face and winked. "I'm your biggest fan- _The Nimph in te Leevs_ just took my breath away. When Israphel kissed Vaizel, I felt like I was part of the story. You _must_ continue the series."

There was something devious and wicked about the way he said it, but neither Tophis nor Aerydin were very good at all on picking up such things, and so it went by unnoticed once again.

Tophis, blushing harder than the ranger's earlier chanter victim, walked up to the stage. "The moustache can stay," she said to the ridiculously handsome Elyos. "Also, like, don't tell anyone," her voice dropped to a whisper. Vaizus leaned in, unabashedly smug. "But I'll see you on the set next week."

Vaizus grinned.

 _This,_ Lord Vaizel thought, trying to keep his grin from becoming too wide. _Is going to be to much_ fun.

-Author's Note-

Thank you readers and reviewers! And since I cannot respond to guest reviews, to the mysterious "E", and other interested parties:

While for logistics reasons, this story will be focused on the Seraphim Lords, I do tentatively plan to have the Shedims read a part of a story in an epilogue. Thanks for reading!


	4. Censorship for Social Progress!

They defend Elysea from the shadows, fighting a menace neither sword nor spell can slay. For the betterment of Atreia, they are the unsung heroes of Elysea who subject themselves to the most unbearable of evils as martyrs for the public good.

At the stroke of midnight on the 25th, the eve before the film festival, the Sanctum Obscenity Tribunal called forth a secret meeting.

"Thank you, thank you," said the Head of the Tribunal, banging a gavel sharply on his desk. The position of Head of the Tribunal had originally belonged to Lord Nezekan by default- being the Lord of Justice, it only had seemed natural that he would be fit for any sort of court-like position. When Nezekan's time had been duly consumed by Eltnen and the Abyss wars, the position had been relegated to Lord Kaisinel, who, aside from being a social recluse, had a sort of pettiness and air of nit-picking superiority about him that made him the ideal choice to fill the vacancy.

If it was actually Lord Kaisinel standing there, the Daeva of Bad Romance would have had quite a problem indeed. Luckily for her, the Empyrean Lord had some sort of major disaster to attend to in Balaurea. Some _horrible_ miscreant had encouraged an adventuring daeva to unleash an unknown evil- FOR SCIENCE!- and the area quickly had become the subject of a Class III emergency. A very generous benefactor had offered to discreetly fill the Empyrean Lord's position while Stormwing, two thousand ribbits, and the entirety of the Beshmundir Temple garden's inhabitants were removed from the Inggison Observation post, to which a distracted Kaisinel readily agreed.

Vaizel adjusted his wig.

"Today," he announced in an over-the-top imitation of Kaisinel's lilting, icy, lofty-nosed smuggery, "I, the Empyrean Lord, hereby bring to order the three thousand, five hundred and twenty eighth Assembly of the Sanctum Obscenity Tribunal."

With a bang, the gavel fell onto the smooth surface of the marble table. A murmur rippled through the assembled daevas, who were watching him with astonished looks on their faces. Vaizel pushed aside a combination of wig and cowl, which stubbornly fell back into place to entirely obscure the vision in his right eye.

"Is there some sort of problem?" Vaizel-disguised-as-Kaisinel asked. From their starstruck expressions, he got the impression that his colleague had never actually _been_ to a meeting. "If my appearance is off, speak up. I wholeheartedly vow not to smite you. Maybe. If there's a heart in here."

"L-Lord Kaisinel..." Arion, the Daeva of Prophecy (or something) stammered, "It is an honor to meet you in person, one I had not foreseen. What begs this remarkable occasion?"

"I was in the mood," Vaizel answered with a flip of his long, white hair. Glitter went flying everywhere, landing on some of the nearby daevas. "Now, if my face is in order, let's begin by taking roll. In no particular order, we're looking for Xenophon, Fuschia, Latri, Arion, Hygea, Perikles, Polydius, Diana, some name I can't pronounce, and about five others. Is everybody here? Yes? Any dissenting? No? Fabulous. Now let us get on with the day's agenda. Arion," Vaizel folded his arms behind his head and placed his blue boots on the table with an elegant thump. A second cloud of glitter rose off of them like mushroom spores. "Do your thing."

Arion stood, twisting his hands together and looking about like he was expecting one of them to attack him. "Of-of course, my liege. I have felt a change in the aether currents, and a premonition that—,"

"No, no," Vaizel interrupted with a dismissive hand wave. "The other thing. Use some deductive reasoning, daeva!"

"Right, of course, please forgive me, my lord." Arion cleared his throat and magicked up a scroll, which unfurled itself in front of him. "The first item on today's agenda is Shorleck the Deductive Detective: The Karnif of Brusthonin. Concerns include sympathetic portrayal of the enemy, invocation of the Shedim Lords, suspected Asmodian authorship, repeated depiction of Asmodian intelligence, and—,"

"We'll review that last. Make a note on the schedule." He banged the gavel to give his statement a feel of finality. "Next?"

Arion took a moment to gather himself into something coherent before continuing. "Um… next, my liege, is I Dined To Death: Uncut Spaghetti Edition, by Haganetti, Daeva of Gluttony. Charges include, and I quote, romanticization of unhealthy eating and lifestyle habits, romanticization of self-inflicted resurrections, potential intent to corrupt the youth, and um, being really, really gross and making everyone who reads it want to puke and then throw themselves off the cliffs of Heiron. And then turn their brains into pudding. And then kisk, and drop that kisk into the flaming heart of the Abyss. And then die. Again. Forever. Unquote."

"Yeah, yeah," Vaizel waved his quill in the air dismissively. "These are all reviewable and we undoubtedly need to put even more chains on the concept of free speech in Elysea. I thought I was summoned here for an emergency meeting. But none of these works really put the "urgent" in "em-urgent-cy"." He wound a piece of wig around his finger. "In fact, if I didn't know better, I would say that you were dancing circles around the main item on the agenda." He sniffed loudly, and with great displeasure. "Schedule Haganetti's narrative for review second to last. Now, are we going to read over Hot4uCutie's film script or not?"

If a person standing outside was paying attention to their surroundings, they would have seen a dark cloud pass over the city of Sanctum. A visible shudder went through the assembled body. Polydius coughed. He felt a cold chill down his spine, like someone had just stuck a wet finger in his ear.

"My Lord, based on the charges, I have concern that—,"

"Read them," Vaizel drawled boredly. He procured a hard candy from his cube and popped it in his mouth. His elaborate headwear slid slowly to the side, and he pushed it back accordingly. Polydius paled and looked desperately at Arion. Vaizel watched with mild amusement as a very awkward silence took hold of the committee.

"Well, Arion," Polydius said, "it's an order then. You heard the Seraphim Lord. Read the charges."

Arion made a face that scrunched up in the middle and pulled down at the edges, like he had just been thrown something very ugly and utterly repugnant, like the severed foot of a kobold miner. Later, Polydius would find himself victim to a terribly unlucky run-in with a poorly packed shipment of moonflower spores, which Arion would have had little to nothing malicious to do with.

"If it is your wish, my liege," Arion said through a forced smile. The scroll unrolled itself a bit, paused as if thinking, then unrolled itself a bit more. When this was insufficient, the enchanted paper gave up and simply went limp. The bottom roll landed on the floor and bounced for several feet before coming to a stop. There were, evidently, a lot of charges.

Arion was burning scarlet before he even finished reading the first three charges. The rest of the assembled daevas regarded the man with a combination of pity and thankfulness that it was him, not them, that would be performing the graceless task.

"Inappropriate content and blasphemy," Arion said quickly. Vaizel gave him a Look.

Arion nearly jumped three feet in the air, to his immense amusement and satisfaction. Vaizel's Looks were never regarded as being effective. The Lord of Freedom made a mental note to be his co-Lord more often.

"The first charges include the misspelling of the names of the Seraphim Lords and the misgendering of Lord Azphel on four occasions, Lady Triniel on twelve, and our Esteemed Lord Kaisinel on eighteen. Surely this, my Lord, is enough to have this work censored and banned from public display, is it not?"

Vaizel laughed, and since he was disguised as his colleague, he added in a couple of extra snorts for good measure. "If that's the case, we would have to remove half of Sanctum's old history books, as most of them are guilty of the same. Continue."

The assembled daevas exchanged glances, and Arion did as instructed with great reluctance.

"Disrespect of holy figures and military authority, indecent portrayal of all of the Empyrean Lords, indecent portrayal of Balaur, repeated depictions of Lord Nezekan wearing unsuitable attire, depiction of blasphemous and utterly sacreligious relationships between Empyrean Lords—,"

"Technically we just can't have kids," Vaizel interjected. Arion appeared to be physically at war with his eyelid, which was determined to start twitching. Whether the Daeva of Prophecy's growing tension was due to fear, irritation, or revulsion was unclear.

"Defamation of our Esteemed Seraphim Lords," he continued, "Offensive imagery, romanticization of the Shedim Lords and cross-faction romances, gratituous and wildly incorrect use of the Ancient Atreian language, criminally bad grammar, explicit inappropriate content-

"Yes, yes, but the sex scene happens off screen and same-sex relationships aren't covered by Aion's ban anyway."

"But it was a four way!" Fuchsia wailed, as scarlet as her namesake. Her hands flew up to cover her mouth, eyes growing as wide as shields when she realized what she had said.

Vaizel smiled gently. "Why don't we go over the script in detail, starting from the beginning?" he asked with an air of false innocence. "Then, from that we can determine whether or not the entire work ought to be censored. Surely there can be nothing worse to influence the Elyos than the Daeva of Betrayal, who strolls up and down the roads of Sanctum every day he isn't out deceiving lovers."

The dark miasma in the room seemed to emanate from the script at these words, and since the Empyrean Lord had spoken, his words were order. Because he was getting bored with listening to Arion fluster and blunder, he delegated the unwholesome task to Fuschia. The Walking Encyclopedia began reading in a strained, high pitched voice.

"The screen fades in from black to reveal the Divine Fortress. It is a lovely day and the sun is shining brightly on the fortress. Lady Ariel snakes in—," she paused, bringing the scroll- which she had been holding as far away from herself as humanly possible- a few inches closer. "-Sneaks in. Azphel is …," the poor librarian brought the script closer to her face and squinted, as if the action would make the poor spelling become unjumbled and the words would reveal themselves to her. "Wafting? ... _Waiting_ for her with a...rose and pulls out a candelight dinner and a shugo butler takes his order. She leans across the table and kisses him…." She took a moment to decipher. "...kind of okay? Ariel is wearing a fluffy pink skirt, hot pink fle— fishnets, super high heels that look like stars, a halter top, and a super glittery crown."

All pairs of eyes watched silently as Vaizel adjusted his wig a fourth time. Not a single one of them dared comment. When it was evident she would not be saved, Fuschia continued with all the enthusiasm of someone walking to their execution. Or at least a humiliating demotion.

"Ariel and Azphel kiss again, and are interrupted by Vaizel and Israphel who are here on their honeymoon. Note to casting: Vaizel's arms are really hot. Ariel and Azphel look at Israphel and Vaizel.

Azphel: You are the lords of love! How can we make our love stronger? The light blinds the dark, but the dark chokes the light.

Israphel: They must open their hearts. And suddenly Marchutan and Kaisinel d..um…"

"Descend from the ceiling," the real Vaizel-disguised-as-Kaisinel finished helpfully. After a few moments of tangible silence and uncomfortable seat-shifting that followed, he cast his gaze about the committee as if in challenge. "While passionately making out."

Diana the Alchemy master seemed to be having a ferocious internal debate with herself, if her facial expressions were anything to go by. Vaizel pulled his boots off the table and folded his hands, leaning forward. "Then let us proceed with discussion," he said with a voice not at all tinged with mischief and bad things to come. "Tell me, Diana," -Diana jumped- "When is this scheduled for screening?"

"T-tomorrow, sir—,"

"Tomorrow," Vaizel interrupted, standing up at his seat. Kaisinel's noisy silver trinkets and crystals jingled and swayed with the movement. " _How ever_ could I have forgotten? Now tell me something else, Diana," Vaizel steepled his gloved hands, biting back a grin. "For what purpose is the Sanctum Obscenity Tribunal gathered here today?"

The members of the Tribunal exchanged uneasy glances.

"For the purpose," Diana cleared her throat and took a moment to gather herself, squirming under Vaizel's piercing stare. "-of ensuring that Elyos culture is not degraded by the spread of the foul and the obscene, that disruptive texts are appropriately restricted for the continued maintenance of the peace and to maintain the purity and high standard of Sanctum's literature collection as the height of knowledge, wisdom, and artistic expression."

It was a direct quote from the Charter of the Sanctum Obscenity Tribunal, clause one, subclauses A through C, a document drawn up by none other than Lord Nezekan himself. This was a fact that Vaizel decided, and was well within his right, to ignore- by impersonating the new de facto head of the Tribunal, his word, after all, was law.

"Thank you, Diana." Vaizel stepped away from his seat to begin grandly walking to the front of the room. "As you have so excellently demonstrated, it's a common belief that the ol' S.O.T. was conceived and convened for the purpose of censorship." Vaizel paused dramatically. "This could not be further from the truth. The Sanctum Obscenity Tribunal's patriotic duty to Elysea is to guide the public opinion towards peace and pride in our people. It is to instill faith in and loyalty to our Seraphim Lords. It is to bring the people of Elysea together and strengthen the power of our written word."

The members of the Tribunal looked on in confusion.

"Only last month," Vaizel continued, "-we had arrested a Lepharist protestor for handing out pamphlets of Lepharist doctrine to unsuspecting citizens. What is their complaint? It is that the Seraphim lords are too distant and above the lives of humans, that Sanctum is too snobby and elite, and the farmers, fishermen, and ordinary mercenaries have been left behind." Now thoroughly engrossed in his speech, Vaizel began to walk around the room, robes billowing and with fire and passion dripping from every word which was thrust upon the assembled daevas who were, for all intents and purposes ill-equipped to defend against such an assault.

"But what, you ask, could this screenplay- this unorthodox, daring screenplay, bring to the people of Sanctum? The people beyond Sanctum? And I answer- it brings hope. It brings connection. It brings the Seraphim Lords down from a position of distance, to one of closeness. This screenplay will be _instrumental_ in quelling the spread of Lepharist revolutionary propaganda. The Seraphim Lords will no longer be far away idols sitting in crystal palaces in the sky. They will be here, _connected_ to the people of Elysea!"

Vaizel glowed a bit inside when the only daeva with the gumption to challenge his speech was one of his rangers. "But sir," the ranger swallowed, barely scraping together the courage to spit out his next words, "What about the-the sacrilegious relationship portrayed between Lord Vaizel, Lord Israphel, the Shedim Marchutan, and yourself? And the outright blasphemous relationship depicted between Lord Nezekan and the Shedim Triniel?"

"And Yustiel," Vaizel-disguised-as-Kaisinel corrected.

"And- and Lady Yustiel," the ranger stammered. Vaizel beamed.

"An excellent question, daeva!" the Empyrean Lord announced. "And one that any self-respecting Elyos scholar would ask. You mages should take note." While the assembled daevas under Kaisinel's patronage paled and withered, Vaizel pressed on. "It shows that the government of Sanctum is friendly to its people. What is the second most common talking point of the problematic Lepharist Revolutionaries? Is it not calling out the corruption and authoritarianism of its leadership? The barbarian practices in Asmodae taken to quell dissenting voices are well known- why should we follow a similar path?"

He snatched the scroll from Fuschia's limp hands and held it aloft like a trophy.

"The full permission of this screenplay to participate in the first annual Sanctum Film Festival marks the beginning of my new _Free Wings, Free Voice!_ movement, which will serve to liberate opinions and voices all over not only Elysea, but the entire planet of Atreia! This is a triumph for all humans, daevas, and sapiens within the two hemispheres, and I thank you all for your time and work to make this movement possible."

With a sweeping flourish, Vaizel returned to his place at the table and picked up the gavel. "Meeting adjourned."

The gavel fell through a sea of thick silence, struck the table, and rung through the stunned hall. A gust of wind tore through the room, whirled around the assembled daevas, and flung scrolls off the table and sent them skittering across the floor.

When the mad dash to secure the documents was over, and the daevas looked up, the Empyrean Lord, along with the entire script of _12 Way Luv: The Movie,_ was gone.


	5. Always Listen to Your Horoscope

"Welcome to the first annual Sanctum Film Festival!" Nebrith flashed a blinding smile for the crowd. Her sequined gown and hair piece glittered in Sanctum's bright golden twilight. Popular hits from the Inquin Flock Five blared out across the square, charging up the growing crowd of daevas for the day's event. An enormous piece of canvas had been set up in the plaza, and daevas who weren't dancing to the music were lounging in the grass, playing with pets, enjoying each other's company, and snacking on delicacies provided by the Sanctum Chef's Guild in honor of the event. A raised, elaborate booth boasting colored banners and gilded decor had been constructed near the canvas. While an Asmodian would accuse the booth of being a pompous eyesore, the Elyos in the square paid it great reverence. Four out of five of the seats were filled, with the fifth conspicuously empty. A small tent was set up a ways away, fabric doors flapping gently in the breeze.

"The crowd today looks great, daevas! I hope you're ready, because we have a very special treat for you this evening. You read it in the announcements, you heard me say it last week, and now you can see it for yourselves-the Seraphim Lords have gathered here today just for you! You heard me- right here in Sanctum! If Lord Nezekan isn't a heartthrob ladies, I don't know what is. Remember, no harassing them- if you want to show them love, you are encouraged to pray at the prayer tent at any time. Remember, no more than two daevas in the tent at once, and no cutting while queuing...,"

"There's a sizeable turnout," Lord Nezekan commented, watching the daevas below from his seat at the booth. "It has been too long since I've been to any kind of public event that wasn't a military rally. It brings back old memories." A ghost of a smile crossed his face.

"Unfortunately," Kaisinel replied dryly, staring broodily into his goblet of the finest wine that Sanctum had to offer. His garments were pristine, but his fringe was noticeably shorter and he smelled faintly of barbecue.

"What I want to know is who was in charge of dragging Vaizel here. Evidently, they've done a terrible job." Yustiel took a bite of her delicate abex cheese quiche, pointedly ignoring the polite and very noble glower that Ariel sent her way. "He disappointed me last month by failing to give me and my generals an espionage debrief on the _previous_ month's military actions." She stabbed the fork into her quiche, making Nezekan jump. "He had better come, or _Aion help all of us_."

"Disappointment can't exist without some threshold of expectation." Nezekan watched the daevas in the plaza begin to gather around the screen with a neutral expression, but the weary frustration in his voice did not go unnoticed.

"We don't need to spend this time complaining, do we? Vaizel or no Vaizel, it's the first time the rest of us have all been together in a decade." Ariel smiled at the present Seraphims from her radiant throne in the center, looking meaningfully from Yustiel and Kaisinel sitting in their thrones on her right, to Nezekan and Vaizel's empty seat on her left. "I for one, can't wait to see what our daevas have come up with."

Nebrith had taken up a place near the projection screen. The entrants had filled their designated front row of seats, stirring with competitive anticipation. Nezekan was surprised to spot Brigade General Telemachus among them. He was seated next to a pretty, red-haired sorceress who was speaking to him with great enthusiasm. With each passing minute, Telemachus appeared to turn a more sickly shade of green.

All that Nezekan could see of the daeva on his other side was a giant purple hat, atop which seemed to be, strangely, a second, smaller hat. His eyes slid right over a green mass of hair, a hooded daeva, and a particularly garish looking quartet of Rainbow Snakes to return to the sorceress. For no discernible reason, his stomach turned.

When the hour struck nine, Ariel and Kaisinel stood side by side and released a shining plume of magic, dimming Sanctum's eternal light and illuminating the large canvas. A hush fell over the crowd as Nebrith stepped in front of the screen, beaming from ear to ear.

"Welcome, daevas tall and small, fledglings and veterans, to the debut of the Sanctum Film Festival. First of all, on behalf of Sanctum I would like to thank everyone for coming to enjoy the show and commend the hard work that the competitors today have put into their unique and inspired masterpieces. Before we get rolling on those, I ask that you all please turn your attention to our very special judges this evening."

The crowd clapped with enthusiasm ranging from polite recognition to rabid shouting. Yustiel beamed and waved gracefully. Nezekan bowed deeply, a humble, yet noble gesture that brought wild cheers from the templars. Ever regal, Lady Ariel stood tall and smiled, radiant and commanding without requiring any theatrics.

It took some time for the more excitable Elyos to settle down, and Nebrith had to steal the housing officer's megaphone in order to regain control of the attendees. One of the Empyrean Guard could be seek hauling Ekoboros, Lady Ariel's determined unwanted suitor, out of the plaza with some difficulty. The Seraphim Lords sat down.

"Thank you, thank you. It truly is the greatest honor to have them here today." Nebrith gestured with a bright smile and an overly-cheerful wink. "Our leaders have promised to judge fairly and without bias, so competitors, you know you are in good hands! Now, if you'll all take a moment to look under your seats, you'll find that the Library of Sages has put together programs that you can use to follow along with the show tonight. We'll be getting started in just a few minutes."

As she lowered the megaphone, the daevas near the center of the crowd started moving with sudden unrest. The disturbance spread like a ripple, and before long daevas were shouting and craning to see what was going on.

"Blood just started coming out of his nose!"

"It got all over my tunic, too. This was _couture_."

Immediately, Yustiel moved forward as Nebrith desperately tried to regain control of the situation.

The crowd parted. A daeva that Nezekan recognized with some uncertainty as Arion, the Daeva of Prophecy, barreled out of the masses and nearly crashed into the throne booth. Blood streamed out of his face like a waterfall, and his eyes were brimming with an otherworldly light that Lord Nezekan instantly recognized as the Divine Will of Aion.

" _Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wincing, fearing_ ," the prophet rasped, clinging to the multi-colored tablecloth with white-knuckled fists. " _Doomed to dreaming dreams no daeva ever dared to dream before;"_

One by one, the daevas present stopped panicking and bemoaning stained garments, captivated as Arion's lyrical voice wove through the air.

" _But the silence had been broken and the sinful word was spoken, and the sacred sanctum broken at the whispered word, "No more."_

 _This was whispered, and Siela echoed back the word, "No More!"_

 _Hear this omen, heed it well, lest innocence be nevermore."_

As the self-proclaimed prophet uttered these words, a hush fell over the crowd.

It was a magnificent piece of poetry.

"A most sophisticated and artful work, daeva." Kaisinel appeared briefly impressed, and his air of indifference was mildly disturbed. "You just might prove beneficial to the Elyos cause after all."

Arion, now once more himself, swayed as he smiled in a fearful, awkward kind of way.

"T-thank you, my liege. I will be sure to include it in my next publication," he said. Apparently, it took quite a lot of effort, because he fell to the ground in a faint immediately afterwards. Arion's prophecies were a common enough occurrence within Sanctum that healers began to slowly walk, rather than run, to his aid.

"Ariel," Nezekan could hear Yustiel whispering to Ariel," We ought to consider what the daeva is saying. I was gifted a copy of his book last month. His predictions have been more than coincidentally accurate."

"The Little Daeva's Bathroom Reader- Special Horoscope Edition?"

Yustiel laughed quietly. "That's the one. Don't tell me it came from you?"

"It predicted Ekoboros's latest proposition attempt last month down to the smallest detail, so naturally I had to share it," Ariel replied with a coy smile. "I don't think I could agree more with your concerns. Nez, Kass," she said more loudly. "The Tribunal vetted all the entries, yes?"

Nezekan looked at Kaisinel, who had choked on his wine.

"Of course they did," Kaisinel sputtered in the midst of a coughing fit. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve, glaring at Ariel with a look that promised retribution. "What, do you still think me incompetent? Even a child could do it."

Before any kind of action could be taken, the projector lit up like a sparkie's butt and the Inquin Flock Five blared the anthem of Elysea across the plaza. Two unranked clerics grabbed Arion's limp arms and awkwardly dragged the unconscious prophet out of sight. The idle chatter of the crowd died down as daevas found their seats, or rushed to the concessions table in a last minute bid for grub.

A series of clips flickered across the screen in time to the music. A beautiful woman dressed as an Asmodian danced mournfully in a stone cavern. A spiritmaster in an enormous purple hat swooped gracefully through the air and crashed headfirst into a doorway. An eyesore of a gunslinger sporting a bright green, violently upswept moustache made a thumbs-up and smiled brilliantly at the camera with neon lettering scrolling in the foreground.

The reel made a horrendous squeaking and rattling noise, and the pictures on the screen froze on the moustached daeva. Tremors rocked the machine, causing the image to jitter and jump. The audience rumbled with uncertainty as the technicians raced to fix the device, armed with wrenches and troubleshooting manuals.

 _Free moustache styling Grow n' Groom seminar is coming to Sanctum!_ read the projection as it loomed over Sanctum like a billboard. _Feel the Flabulousity! Facial hair encouraged but not required to attend. ISO green hair dye. PM for details._

"What's goin' on?" A reedy-voiced aethertech stormed up to the technicians. They huddled over the projector and spoke in whispers. After a few seconds, one of the technicians nodded, stepped back, and smacked the device soundly with the wrench.

The projector clattered in protest and the image jumped forward far enough for a stylized burst of stars to emerge from the gunslinger's five inch tall moustache before jerking to a stop. The technician struck it again, and the reel shuddered into motion once more with great reluctance.

On the screen, the moustache disappeared and was replaced with an unconvincing actress in Lady Yustiel's robes. She came crashing through a wall -Kuruku-aid Man style- and looked around the set with desperate eyes. A nearly naked daeva wearing purple body paint and leather armor came crashing through the wall opposite. The two embraced _enthusiastically_.

Nezekan did a double take.

Was that actress supposed to be _Trin?!_

The Yustiel on screen yanked at her robes, and the clip changed again to show Telemachus standing at a crafting table, furiously whipping at a bowl of cream as a giant clock ticked away on the table next to him. A band of rainbow snakes performed an intricate jazz number atop giant slabs of Beluslan ice. The screen faded, and an upbeat tune played as the logo of the First Annual Sanctum Film Festival lit up the canvas.

Nezekan's mouth opened and shut several times as he tried to comprehend what he just saw.

Unfortunately for him and all of the assembled daevas, what they had witnessed was but a small preview of what was to come.

The technist technician operating the device pressed a button and pulled a lever. The projector clicked and rattled. _The Tragedy of Judge Kromede_ appeared onscreen as daevas clapped with polite appreciation.

In the days, and months, and even years that would follow, the consequences that would result from that action would be told only in low whispers, each retelling more vulgar, exaggerated, and horrifying than the last. Veterans would come to refer to the day only as The Event, a day of nightmares and awe, unprecedented and gut-wrenching plot twists, and popcorn. Some would require rehabilitative therapy for years afterwards, others would sequester the memory away to live in contented denial.

But for now, at this moment, there was peace. Lady Yustiel nudged a piece of a sugar dusted piece mela turnover onto Lady Ariel's plate with a warm smile. Lord Nezekan's mind wandered to pleasant thoughts of his son and lover. Lord Kaisinel radiated malevolence from the corner as he dwelled on giant storm dragons, cute tiny animals, and unwanted haircuts. Lady Ariel tasted the turnover and nodded enthusiastically, all the while warily monitoring the crowd for her unwanted suitor Ekoboros's inevitable appearance. Arion, the Daeva of Prophecy lay in a planter just behind the walls of the square, forgotten by all but a lone cleric who tended to him with care and diligence. Lord Vaizel mingled with the crowd, unseen as he waited with devilish intent for the fruits of his labor.

The Sanctum Film Festival had begun.


End file.
